L-  \J  UC-NRLF 

1011 
R3 


Education, 
and  not 
Instruction 


By 

Corliss 

Fitz  Randolph 


[ 


GIFT  OF 


EDUCATION.  AND  NOT  INSTRUCTION 


An  Address   Delivered    at   the  Celebration  of 

the     Twenty-Fifth  Anniversary   of   the 

Founding   of  Salem  College,   at 

Salem,    West  Virginia, 

June    12,    1913 


By 
CORLISS  FITZ  RANDOLPH 


Prew  of  the  American    Sabbath  Tract    Society,  Plainfield,   N.    J. 
1913 


'•••'»• 


Copyrighted,  1914,  by 
Corlif*  Fiu  Randolph 


(fUf 


Education,  and  Not  Instruction. 

By  Corliss  Fitz  Randolph. 

A  THOUSAND  years  ago,  there  swept 
out  of  the  chilling  regions  of  the 
north,  down  along  the  coast  of  Scan- 
dinavia, across  the  waters  of  the  Ger- 
man Ocean,  from  the  land  of  the 
Vikings,  a  mighty  fleet  of  upwards 
of  700  vessels  and  40,000  fierce  war- 
riors. The  flag-ship,  named  the  Drag- 
on, was  fashioned  from  ancient  oaks  that 
had  defied  the  icy  blasts  of  the  storm- 
swept  mountains  where  they  grew,  into 
the  form  of  a  dragon.  She  flew  a  sin- 
gle cross-rigged  sail  of  immense  sweep 
and  ornamented  with  broad  stripes  of 
brilliant  blue,  scarlet,  and  green  and  was 
equipped  with  half  a  hundred  pairs  of  oars, 
some  thirty  feet  in  length,  and  manned  by 
at  least  four  stalwart  seamen  to  each  oar. 
The  huge  dragon's  head  at  the  prow  was 
covered  with  shining  gold,  and  the  stern, 
ending  in  a  dragon's  tail  of  corresponding 
proportions,  was  ornamented  in  a  similar 
manner.  The  Dragon  alone  carried  a 
crew,  700  strong.  Each  soldier  bore 
a   shield   which   reached   from   above   th« 


525391 


head  well  down  toward  the  knees,  and  pro- 
tected all  the  vital  parts  of  the  body.  With 
their  shields,  their  owners  had  constructed 
a  border  all  around  the  outside  of  their 
ship,  by  hanging  them  in  a  row  at  the  top 
of  the  hull,  so  that  they  overlapped  each 
other,  alternating  yellow  and  black,  and 
presenting  a  highly  picturesque  appear- 
ance. 

The  other  vessels  of  the  fleet,  though 
smaller,  were  similarly  constructed  and 
similarly  equipped,  and  as  their  crews  bent 
to  their  oars  or  set  the  bellying  sails,  they 
chanted  their  ancient  Sagas,  reciting  vic- 
tories of  the  past  and  ithe  glories  of  other 
days ;  or  they  sang  of  the  mighty  Thor  and 
the  all-powerful  god,  Odin, — the  long- 
bearded  Thunderer,  Father  of  Victory, 
God  of  Hosts,  and  Father  of  All.  As  the 
chorus  of  40,000  lusty  voices,  commingled 
with  the  strains  of  a  thousand  harps,  was 
caught  on  high  by  the  swift  winds  that 
bore  them  on  their  martial  way,  they  were 
all  blended  into  one  mighty,  exultant  paean 
of  confident  victory  in  impending  mortal 
conflict,  such  as  to  mock  the  merciless 
clamour  of  hungry  ocean's  roar  in  her 
most  threatening  mood. 


On  the  foredeck  of  the  imposing  Dragon, 
stood  the  commander  of  the  fleet,  of  giant 
stature  and  kingly  mould.  Across  his 
massive  forehead  ran  an  ornamental  gold 
band,  set  with  gems  as  flashing  and  as 
priceless  as  ever  graced  the  diadems  of  the 
far-famed  rulers  of  Golconda.  His  long, 
yellow  hair,  fair  as  mellow  sunshine,  fell 
upon  his  broad  shoulders,  and  his  full 
beard,  tawny  as  a  lion's  mane,  dropped  half 
way  to  his  girdle.  His  face  and  hands 
were  bronzed  from  long  exposure  to  storm 
and  wind.  His  eyes,  a  deep,  dark  blue,  in 
whose  depths  lurked  smouldering  fires  of 
passion,  gave  token  of  a  determination  and 
will  that  brooked  no  defeat;  while  through 
his  veins  coursed  a  torrent  of  such  life- 
giving  blood  as  irresistingly  impels  the 
victor  of  a  thousand  bloody  battles  to 
plunge  into  a  final  struggle  of  life  and  death. 

He  was  clad  in  bright-blue  knee- 
breeches,  with  gold-embroidered  shoes, 
made  from  walrus-skin,  that  reached  more 
than  half  way  to  his  knees.  The  inter- 
vening space  between  the  shoe-tops  and 
knee-breeches  was  covered  with  heavy 
bands  of  richly  coloured  silk.  About  his 
body  was  a  shirt-like  garment  of  red  silk, 


wkh  long*  sleeves,  which  fell^  below  his 
girdle  and  effectually  concealed  the  indis- 
pensable coat  of  mail.  At  his  side  hung  a 
long-  broadsword  of  shining,  highly-tem- 
pered steel,  thickly  encrusted  with  silver 
ornaments,  but,  notwithstanding,  betoken- 
ing many  a  deadly  encounter.  Over  all, 
was  thrown  a  heavy  fur  cape,  lined  with 
velvet  of  a  royal  purple  hue,  which  reached 
to  his  shoe-tops,  and  was  fastened  at  the 
throat  with  a  richly  engraved  golden  clasp; 
and  at  his  feet  lay  a  battle-axe  of  such  size 
and  weight  as  might  well  try  the  strength 
of  the  arm  of  Hercules  himself. 

Thus  he  stood,  bareheaded,  the  wind 
playing  with  his  hair,  with  his  arms  fold- 
ed tightly  across  his  chest,  and  buried  in 
thoug-ht,  contemplating,  with  a  certain  su- 
preme satisfaction,  his  vast  fleet  of  battle- 
ships, followed  in  their  wake  by  several 
hundreds  of  transports,  bearing  supplies  of 
food,  tents,  horses, — everything  required 
to  equip  and  sustain  so  mighty  an  army  on 
land  and  sea  for  months.  Not  Solomon 
with  all  his  train  of  oriental  splendour ;  nor 
Alexander,  conqueror  of  worlds;  nor  Jul- 
ius Caesar,  builder  of  empires;  nor  Na- 
poleon  Buonaparte,   who  made    a    chess- 


board  of  the  continent  of  Europe  and 
pawns  of  her  crowned  heads,  ever  saw 
such  a  martial  display.  Not  all  the  gal- 
leys of  Greece,  nor  all  the  ships  that  sail- 
ed the  Spanish  Main,  nor  yet  the  Invincible 
Armada,  ever  presented  such  a  display  of 
naval  power,  moving  with  so  irresistible 
a  sweep,  and  pregnant  with  as  far-reaching 
possibilities. 

This  was  Hrolf,  or  Rollo,  the  last  of  the 
Vikings,  going  forth,  primarily  to  make 
war  upon  the  ancient  Gallic  domains  of 
imperial  Caesar,  but  in  reality  to  set  in 
motion  forces  that  were  to  persist  with  an 
accelerating  momentum  for  a  thousand 
years,  and  bear  manifold  blessings  to  un- 
told generations.  As  he  stood  in 
silent  meditation,  we  may  not  know 
how  far  the  Muse  of  History  un- 
rolled her  tempting  scroll  to  his  im- 
patient eyes,  nor  how  far  his  prevision 
may  have  penetrated  the  misty  prospect 
before  him.  To  what  extent  his  ambitions 
may  have  been  luring  him  to  world-con- 
quest, it  will  probably  never  be  given  us  to 
know. 

The  picture  here  sketched  is  realistic 
to   the   last    detail.       The    Bayeaux   Tap- 


estry,  the  Sagas,  and  the  ruins  of  the 
long,  fleeting,  dead  past,  with  their  runic 
inscriptions,  and  their  mute,  material  evi- 
dences of  the  life  and  warfare  of  this  peo- 
ple, bear  ample  testimony  of  that  fact.  But 
of  the  possible  Napoleonic  dreams  of  this 
heathen  demigod  as  he  fared  forth  to  war, 
history  is  either  strangely  silent,  or 
answers  back  in  accents  of  hollow  mock- 
ery. Yet,  upon  a  shred  of  the  tottering 
imperial  realm  which  Charlemagne  had 
erected  from  the  dying  embers  of 
the  Gallic  Roman  Empire,  this  pagan 
barbarian,  of  such  giant  physique  that 
no  horse  could  be  found  powerful 
enough  to  carry  him,  saturated  with 
the  spirit  of  the  Norse  theology  of  Thor 
and  Odin,  was  to  cause  to  rise  yet  another 
empire,  dedicated  to  Christianity,  in  spirit  as 
in  letter,  to  law  and  order,  as  well  as  life, 
liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  and 
singularly  free  from  avarice  and  dishon- 
esty, whose  national  life  was  to  endure 
throughout  an  entire  millennial  epoch  and 
then  enter  upon  another  with  a  virility  and 
spirit  of  perseverance  such  as  to  augur 
prosperity  for  its  future. 

He  was  projecting  himself  into  western 


European  civilization  about  the  beginning 
of  the  period  known  in  the  history  of  learn- 
ing as  the  age  of  Scholasticism.  A  little 
more  than  a  century  before,  Charlemagne 
had  esitablished  monastic  schools  in  France 
and  made  what  was  probably  the  first  at- 
tempt in  the  history  of  the  world  to  pro- 
vide universal  free  primary  education,  and 
to  establish  free  higher  schools.  This 
spirit  the  new  ruler  speedily  caught, 
and  transmitted  to  his  successors.  About 
a  century  and  a  half  after  Hrolf  had 
established  himself  in  that  part  of  France 
that  came  to  be  known  as  Normandy, 
his  grandson  in  the  seventh  generation 
of  descent,  William  the  Conqueror,  ac- 
companied by  his  immediate  family,  be- 
sides his  uncles,  cousins,  and  others  of  his 
numerous  kindred,  crossed  the  channel 
which  divided  Normandy  from  the  southern 
part  of  England,  crushed  the  English  army 
under  Harold,  killed  their  leader  at  the 
Battle  of  Hastings,  and  reorganized  the 
government  of  the  newly  conquered  soil. 
Scarcely  was  the  celebrated  Domesday 
Book  engrossed,  before  schools  and  uni- 
versities sprang  up.  The  two  great  ancient 
universities  of  Cambridge  and  Oxford  were 


/ 


founded  under  Norman  influence;  ajnd  be- 
tween the  Conquest  and  the  death  of  King 
John,  there  were  established  five  hundred 
and  fifty-seven  schools  in  England.  The 
spirit  of  education  marked  the  Conqueror's 
family  circle  no  less  than  the  State.  His 
son,  Henry  Beauclerc,  was  trained  in  the 
sciences;  as  were  Henry  H,  and  his  three 
sons,  of  whom  Richard,  the  eldest,  was  a 
poet. 

Now  awoke  the  genius  of  religious 
and  political  freedom.  In  the  veins 
of  Robert  the  Bruce,  liberator  of 
Scotland,  ran  the  blood  of  this  Vik- 
ing king;  and  when  the  Puritan  Ref- 
ormation arose  in  England  and  the  Pil- 
grims, after  a  career  of  varying  fortune 
in  a  foreign  land,  finally  found  rest  on  the 
bleak  shores  of  New  England,  there,  too, 
was  found  the  fruit  of  the  loins 
of  the  regal  Norseman;  and  when, 
after  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  more 
had  passed  away  and  Lexington,  Con- 
cord, and  Bunker  Hill  called  for  a 
military  commander  of  heroic  stature 
to  lead  the  Colonial  armies  in  their 
struggle  for  freedom  from  oppression, 
it   was    another    descendant   of   the    royal 

8 


giant  of  the  north  that  heard  the 
cry  and  rode  away  from  his  peaceful 
Virginian  plantation  to  lead  to  victory  a 
people  who  were  to  found  another  govern- 
ment, which  in  the  short  space  of  a  century 
and  a  quarter,  was  to  share  with  the  proud 
Briton,  her  cousin  of  Norse  ancestry,  the 
boast  that  the  sun  never  sets  on  her  pos- 
sessions, and  to  become  the  mighty  empire 
of  the  west,  to  be  reckoned  with  by  the 
great  powers  of  the  world,  and  to  be 
known  and  read  of  by  all  men,  of  all  na- 
tions of  the  earth. 

And,  to  carry  the  story  to  its  final,  logical 
issue,  when  the  village  of  Salem  was 
founded  in  the  wilderness  of  the  foot-hills 
of  the  Alleghany  Mountains  some  hun- 
dred and  twenty  years  ago,  by  a  band  of 
courageous  spirits,  who  sought  a  new  home 
in  this  strange,  wild  country,  where  they 
might  enter  upon  the  heritage  bequeathed 
to  them  by  Plymouth  Rock  and  the  Magna 
Charta  of  ^^6,  that  triumphal  progress  was 
led  by  another  captain,  the  streams  of 
whose  life  current  had  their  source  in  the 
great  heart- fount  of  the  mighty  son  of  Thor. 

It  has  already  been  observed  that  no 
sooner  had  the  sturdy  Norseman  established 


his  home  in  France  and  passed  under  Chris- 
tian sway  and  embraced  that  faith,  than 
he  became  a  great  humanizing  force.  Awak- 
ened from  her  apathy  by  his  influence, 
Christianity  became  a  vi'talistic  power  of 
itself.  He  crystallized  the  nascent  humani- 
tarian spirit  of  France  inito  the  great  Uni- 
versity of  Paris.  He  quickened  and  gave 
being  to  the  movement  which  culminated 
in  the  English  Renaissance,  and  made  the 
Elizabethan  period  the  pride  and  glory  of 
English  letters.  He  fostered  organized 
law.  He  encouraged,  and  helped  to  make 
a  living  reality  of  civil  and  religious  free- 
dom throughout  the  entire  English-speak- 
ing world,  and  placed  the  peoples  using 
that  language  in  a  position  where,  today, 
they  practically  hold  the  balance  of  power 
among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  At  the 
close  of  the  recent  war  between  Russia  and 
Japan,  it  was  not  the  belligerents  who  made 
the  treaty  of  peace.  The  President  of  the 
United  States  of  America  brought  the  op- 
posing powers  together  on  the  neutral  foot- 
ing of  our  hospitable  shores,  and  the  Prime 
Minister  of  England,  tactful  but  unyield- 
ing, dictated  the  terms  which  ended  that 
bloody  struggle. 

10 


The  beneficent  force  that  has  worked 
out  so  many  other  great  deeds  of  service 
for  modern  civilization,  has  made,  in  this 
great  beloved  country  of  ours,  the  best  sys- 
tem of  free  public  education  that  the  world 
has  ever  known.  It  was  the  same  benign 
influence  thait  inspired  the  American  people 
with  the  exalted  opinion  of  higher  edu- 
cation that  has  characterized  them  from 
the  very  inception  of  William  and  Mary 
College  to  the  present  generation.  And  if 
we  stop  and  consider  that  the  Norseman 
was  Germanic  before  he  was  Norse,  we 
may  readily  perceive  that  the  very  dynamic 
spirit  that  inspired  him  to  become  the 
patron  of  education  in  France,  Great 
Britain,  the  United  States,  Canada,  and 
Australia,  likewise  moved  others  to  place 
education  upon  the  firm,  scientific  footing 
it  holds  throughout  Germanic,  or  central, 
Europe  today.  Indeed,  I  may  venture  to 
remark  in  passing,  that  Frederick  the 
Great,  Bismarck  the  Iron  Chancellor,  and 
Field  Marshal  Von  Moltke,  all  were  but 
Vikings  of  the  nineteenth  century.  When, 
a  few  years  ago,  on  a  dreary,  stormy  day 
in  winter,  in  company  with  a  fellow  coun- 
tryman  of   theirs   on    a   railroad   train,   I 

II 


passed  the  snow-clad  tomb  and  former 
home  of  Bismarck,  the  Sphinx  of  Europe, 
the  man  of  whom  it  was  said  he  could  be 
silent  in  seven  languages,  I  could  but  ob- 
serve how  fittingly  both  his  former  habita- 
tion and  his  last  resting-place  connoted  the 
ancient  fierce  spirit  of  the  North,  so  well 
exemplified  in  our  Viking  hero.  Nor  could 
I  fail  to  observe  the  spirit  of  almost  filial 
veneration  and  respect  which  my  compan- 
ion displayed  as  we  swept  by  this  cold  and 
bleak  German  Valhalla. 

Thus,  the  hand  that  a  thousand  years  ago 
laid  such  a  mighty  grip  upon  west  central 
Europe  and  inspired  a  nascent  civilization 
to  spring  into  a  living  power  for  uplift  and 
culture,  for  progress  and  righteousness,  is 
today  erecting  the  humble  chapel  on  the 
countryside  and  piling  up  massive  masonry 
into  lofty  cathedrals  in  splendid  cities;  is 
dotting  this  fair  country  of  ours  with  rural 
schools  and  small  colleges  as  well  as  with 
great  busy  school-hives  for  the  children  of 
the  populous  commercial  and  manufacturing 
centres,  and  with  the  magnificent  universi- 
ties which  grace  American  soil  from  Atlan- 
tic to  Pacific  shore;  and  from  them  all  is- 
sues the  same  clarion  voice  that  called  the 

12 


fierce  warriors  of  the  North  to  conflict  with 
the  powers  of  darkness,  still  calling  from 
the  misty  past  upon  all — men,  women  and 
children,  everywhere — to  the  worship  and 
adoration  of  their  Maker,  and  all  the  chil- 
dren, youth,  and  young  men  and  young 
women  of  the  land  to  rally  around  the  ban- 
ner of  enlightenment  and  avail  themselves 
of  opportunities  for  acquiring  an  education 
such  as  have  never  before  been  offered  in 
the  history  of  the  world. 

But  what  is  an  education?  Well  may 
we  ask  this  question ;  it  has  been  asked  for 
thousands  of  years,  and  curiously  enough,  ^ 
the  answer  has  always  been  the  same,  j 
True,  in  many,  perhaps  all,  ages,  there  have 
been  those  who  have  fancied  that  they  re- 
sponded in  other  tones,  and  some  have  ac- 
tually said  other  things.  But  did  you  ever 
stop  to  think  that  a  given  object  appears 
different  to  different  people;  that  much, 
and  sometimes  everything,  depends  upon 
the  point  of  view  ?  It  makes  all  the  differ- 
ence imaginable  whether  one  looks  at  the 
world  from  the  depths  of  a  narrow  valley, 
or  from  the  summit  of  a  high  mountain. 
The  giant  oak,  which  lifts  its  head  in  tow- 
ering majesty  when  one  stands  in  its  im- 


mediate  presence,  sinks  into  utter  insignifi- 
cance when  seen  in  distant  perspective. 
Even  the  course  of  a  mighty  river,  with  all 
its  eddies  and  counter  currents,  might 
easily  be  misjudged  by  one  beholding  it  for 
the  first  time. 

The  prophet,  the  real  seer,  whether  it  be 
in  religion,  education,  or  State,  is  he  who, 
from  the  loftiest  peak,  surveys  the  prospect 
before  him  without  aberration  of  sight — 
without  the  illusion  of  foreshortening  or 
mirage.  So,  in  this  discussion,  let  us  lis- 
ten to  the  voices  of  men  who  stand  upon 
the  mountain  tops  of  human  history  and 
attainment.  Three  centuries  before  the 
Christian  Era  began,  Plato  said : 

"A  good  education  is  that  which  gives  to  the 
body  and  soul  all  the  perfection  of  which  they 
are  capable." 

One  might  fairly  say  that  this  declara- 
tion from  the  lips  of  a  pagan  sage  really 
embodies  the  philosophy  of  Moses  and  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon — the  magi  of  the  an- 
cient Hebrews.  Two  thousand  years  af- 
terward, Milton,  whose  Paradise  Lost,  no 
less  than  his  theological  disputations,  re- 
moves him  wholly  from  the  suspicion  of 
undue   pagan  influence,  in  his  memorable 


letter  to  his  friend  Hartlieb  on  the  subject 
of  Education,  amplified  Plato's  dictum  into 
the  following: 

"I  call,  therefore,  a  complete  and  generous 
education,  that  which  fits  a  man  to  perform 
justly,  skillfully,  and  magnanimously,  all  the 
offices,  both  private  and  public,  of  peace  and 
war." 

The  modern  definition  that  "education  is 
fitting  oneself  to  one's  environment,"  while 
cryptic  in  its  sound,  and  possibly  in  its  in- 
tended meaning,  is  really  Plato  stated  in 
fewer  words,  but  without  the  directness 
and  simplicity  of  the  latter.  Some 
modern  writers  distinguish  carefully  be- 
tween education  and  instruction.  Ac- 
cording to  these  authorities,  education  is, 
in  brief,  essentially  the  result  of  all  the 
conscious  influences  which  impinge  upon 
and  shape  personal  character;  and  instruc- 
tion, in  similar  general  terms,  is  what  we 
are  wont  to  call  "schooling."  In  other  words, 
education  is  the  residuum  of  all  one's  ex- 
periences of  life,  or  in  short,  individual 
character;  while  instruction  is  what  we 
have  been  accustomed  to  call  education, — 
"book-learning,"  if  you  will  pardon  so 
homely  a  term. 

Now,  education,  from  the  standpoint  of 

IS 


the  practical  educator,  consists  in  the  re- 
sult of  all  the  influences  which  he  may  be 
able  to  bring  to  bear  to  give  his  pupils  as 
much  as  possible  of  the  common  stock  of 
knowledge  essential  for  intelligent  and  ap- 
preciative conduct  of  life.  This  includes, 
in  the  main,  two  important  factors;  name- 
ly, the  curriculum  and  the  personality  of 
the  instructor.  Of  course,  the  stu- 
dent's associations  with  his  fellows  is 
a  third,  not  unimportant,  consideration. 
With  particular  reference  to  this  view  of 
the  question,  education  is  classified  as 
physical,  intellectual,  and  spiritual;  and 
again  as  utilitarian  and  cultural.  The 
former  of  these  two  classifications  is  log- 
ical and  scientific,  while  the  latter  is  arti- 
ficial and  sophistical. 

In  our  threefold  classification  of  educa- 
tion, naturally  the  first  consideration  is 
physical.  The  body  is  the  temple  of  our 
spirit,  and  the  home  of  our  intellect.  Nay, 
more,  it  is  the  medium  through  which  we 
are  able  to  use  our  spirit  and  intellect  as  it 
was  designed  that  they  should  be  used; 
and  upon  the  careful  development  of  the 
body  into  symmetrical,  physical  manhood 
and  womanhood,  depends  the  fulfillment  of 

i6 


the  hopes  and  obligations  incurred  by  our 
spiritual  and  intellectual  being — the  moral 
and  ethical  manifestations  of  our  existence. 

Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that,  aside  from 
the  ten  precepts  of  the  Decalogue,  essen- 
tially the  entire  Mosaic  law  pertained  to 
the  physical  well-being  of  the  Hebrews? 
Not  only  that,  but  therein  may  be  found  a 
code  of  sanitary  regulations,  which,  if  rig- 
idly enforced  today  among  the  entire  citi- 
zen body  of  the  nation,  would  inure  greatly 
the  physical  and  social  welfare  of  human- 
ity, irrespective  of  race,  colour,  or  creed  of 
religious  faith. 

The  Spartan  code  of  training  directed  its 
entire  aim  toward  physical  development, 
and  by  the  unrelenting  enforcement  of  its 
rules  produced  results  that  have  made  the 
history  of  Lacedaemonia  famous  for  all 
time.  This  code  recognized  a  fundamen- 
tal truth,  in  that  if  society  wants  to  per- 
petuate the  human  species,  it  must  insist 
upon  the  rigorous  enforcement  of  certain 
sanitary  canons  for  the  care  of  the  body. 
No  nation  of  physical  weaklings  ever  en- 
dures, or  attains  distinction.  The  recogni- 
tion of  this  inexorable,  basic  mandate  of 
nature  by  savage  and  barbaric  peoples  is 


\ 


u 


17 


the  real  explanation  of  certain  of  their  in- 
human practices  with  reference  to  the  ex- 
posure and  destruction  of  weak  children. 
It  is  but  the  practical  application  of  the 
stern  edict  of  the  "survival  of  the  fittest," 
or  "natural  selection,"  as  modern  scientists 
have  pointed  out,  by  means  of  which  nature 
develops  and  perpetuates  certain  types  of 
both  animate  and  inanimate  creation.  It 
is  of  vastly  more  importance  that  a  man 
shall  have  the  necessary  strength  and  en- 
durance to  use  carpenter's  tools,  than  that 
he  should  have  the  skill  to  use  them.  He 
may  have  the  cunning  and  skill  to  fashion 
the  rarest  examples  of  his  craft,  but  if  he 
have  not  the  strength  to  use  the  tools  neces- 
sary to  produce  them,  his  skill  is  of  no  avail. 
Then,  aside  from  the  bald  question  of 
developing  mere  brute  strength,  there  are 
certain  principles  of  sanitation  and  health 
which  need  to  be  taught  as  of  divine  ori- 
gin, since  upon  their  intelligent  observance 
depends  the  freedom  of  the  race  from  the 
bondage  of  disease  and  premature  decay. 
The  widespread  interest  in  what  is  now 
termed  eugenics,  augurs  well  for  a  sane, 
efficient  physical  discipline. 

By  intellectual  education,  we  mean  the 
development    of    our    general  intelligence: 

i8 


This  includes  not  simply  the  acquisition  of 
that  body  of  knowledge  which  the  history 
of  civilization  has  shown  to  constitute  the 
essence  of  all  that  is  rich  and  ennobling  in 
human  experience,  but  also  the  de- 
velopment of  a  discerning  judgment 
by  which  to  classify  and  interpret  it. 
This  body  of  knowledge,  and  its  ad- 
equate interpretation  and  classification, 
constitute  what  is  known  as  a  liberal  edu- 
cation, and  is  to  be  carefully  diflFerentiated 
from  what  is  purely  technical  or  profes- 
sional. The  liberal  education  is  the  great 
chief  corner-stone  of  enlightened  civiliza- 
tion. Plato,  in  his  Republic,  which  was 
really  the  first  scientific  treatise  on  this 
subject,  demanded  little  beyond  what  we 
should  call  secondary  education.  Of  its 
higher  form,  he  required  a  little  of  ad- 
vanced mathematics  (including  astron- 
omy), and  philosophy.  Of  literature,  as 
we  know  it,  there  was  none.  Of  course, 
the  poems  of  Homer  were  familiar  to  every 
one,  just  as  certain  traditions  of  the  Jews 
are  familiar  to  every  Hebrew,  and  as  the 
Nibehmgenlied  was  familiar  in  every 
household  in  Germany  in  the  Dark 
Ages.  But  at  that  time.  Homer's  poems 
were  mere  folklore,  a  national  tradition,  and 


19 


had  not  yet  risen  to  the  dignity  of  pure  lit- 
erature. But  from  these  matchless  Homeric 
legends;  from  the  historical,  philosophical 
discussions  of  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle, 
and  their  followers  and  successors;  from 
the  spirit  of  mountains  and  valleys,  their 
purpling  plains  and  chaste  blue  seas ;  from 
their  wars,  from  victory,  from  defeat; 
from  their  sunny  skies  and  the  joyous  life 
they  led  in  the  clear,  pure,  rarefied  atmos- 
phere of  sunny  Hellas,  the  Greeks  created 
literature, — a  great,  peerless  body  of  it, — 
into  which  they  breathed  their  national  life 
and  spirit,  and  even  the  whole  sum  of  hu- 
man existence — that  which,  next  after  the 
Bible,  is  the  best  literature  the  world  has 
ever  known.  It  palpitates  with  their  hearts' 
blood ;  it  is  exuberant  with  the  joys  of  liv- 
ing; and  reeks  with  the  real  experiences 
(even  to  their  inmost  thoughts)  of  actual, 
God-made  men  and  women.  It  is  the 
fountainhead, — the  great  source, — from 
which  all  modern  literature  has  been 
drawn. 

The  Romans,  who  taught  Greek  litera- 
ture in  their  schools,  produced  a  literature 
of  their  own,  fashioned  after  that  of  the 
Greek ;  they  developed  and  organized  juris- 
prudence and  the  science  of  government; 

20 


and,  finally,  before  our  very  eyes,  as  it  were, 
they  unrolled  a  splendid  panorama,  pictur- 
ing forth  the  actual  production  and  de- 
velopment of  a  staitely,  sonorous  tongue, 
whose  acquisition  is  sought  today  by  a 
greater  aggregation  of  people  than  spoke 
it  when,  at  the  height  of  her  Empire, 
Rome's  mightiest  legions  thronged  forth  to 
universal  victory.  Milton,  the  blind  bard 
of  England's  Commonwealth,  whose  poet- 
ical genius  is  to  the  English  language  what 
Vergil's  was  to  the  Latin,  and  Dante's 
to  the  Italian, — a  classical  scholar  of 
marvelous  attainment, — enunciated  a  dic- 
tum to  the  effect  that  Greek  and  Latin  were 
the  only  languages  of  enlightenment,  and 
urged  that  they  be  acquired  not  merely  for 
the  sake  of  the  pure  literature  which  they 
embodied,  but  that  at  least  some  of  the 
technical  and  professional  subjects,  includ- 
ing agriculture  and  architecture,  might  be 
studied  at  their  original  sources/ 

1.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Vitruvius  is  still 
regarded  as  an  authority  on  architecture.  The  stand- 
ard modern  edition  is  that  edited  by  Rose  (Leipzig, 
1889).  The  standard  English  translation  is  that  edited 
by  Gwilt  (London,  1826;  reprinted  1874).  And  since 
this  address  has  been  put  into  type,  there  has  appeared 
an  English  translation  of  the  agricultural  treatises  of 
Cato  and  Varro  entitled,  Roman  Farm  Management, 
The  Treatises  of  Cato  and  Varro  Done  Into  English 
With  Notes  of  Modern  Instances.  By  A  Virginia 
Fanner    (New    York,    1913). 

21 


Perhaps  in  all  the  maddening  vortex  of 
our  complex  modern  life,  there  is  no  greater 
feat  of  daily  occurrence  than  that  of  edit- 
ing successfully  a  great  metropolitan  daily 
newspaper.  Here  is  gathered  together,  in 
the  short  space  of  a  few  hours,  all  the 
news  of  interest  that  has  just  transpired 
throughout  the  world.  Swift  express 
trains,  ships  of  the  air,  ocean  cables,  the 
telephone  carrying  the  sound  of  the  human 
voice  for  a  thousand  miles,  and  wireless 
telegraphy — that  greatest  of  all  the  great 
miracles  of  modern  times — are  laid  under 
tribute  to  yield  up  their  secrets  from  the 
closets  of  the  uttermost  hidden  parts  of 
the  earth,  to  be  proclaimed  from  the  house- 
tops of  all  the  broad  highways  of  civiliza- 
tion. A  vast  army  of  tens  of  thousands 
of  tireless  workers  keep  up  a  steady  flow 
of  the  never-ending  streams  of  intelligence, 
with  all  their  tremendous  volume,  through 
all  these  multifarious  channels.  The  news 
ranges  all  the  way  from  the  petty  theft  of  a 
cowardly,  clumsy  sneak-thief  or  pickpocket, 
to  the  loss  of  millions  through  the  most  dar- 
ing and  skillful  machinations  of  the  experi- 
enced embezzler;  from  petty  graft  in  a 
country  village  to  the  widespread  ramifica- 


22 


Itions  of  the  artful  designs  of  the  most  cun- 
ning diplomatists  and  statesmen  of  the 
Great  Powers  plotting  the  dismemberment 
of  a  decaying  empire;  from  the  election  of 
a  justice  of  the  peace  at  the  mountain  cross- 
roads of  Tennessee  to  the  coronation  of  a 
king,  or  the  marriage  of  a  princess  of  the 
realm;  from  a  common  street  brawl  to  the 
bloody  struggle  of  the  battlefield  where  the 
fate  of  nations  hangs  in  a  balance;  from  a 
hod-carrier  tumbling  from  a  ladder  under 
the  weight  of  a  load  of  bricks,  with  a 
broken  leg,  to  the  wreck  of  a  floating 
ocean-palace  at  the  cost  of  a  thousand  lives ; 
from  the  childish  games  of  a  tiny  kinder- 
garten to  the  imposing  commencement  ex- 
ercises of  a  great  university;  from  the 
publication  of  a  new  spelling-book  in  Au- 
gusta, Maine,  to  the  discovery,  in  the  sands 
of  Egypt,  of  ancient  papyri  containing  the 
lost  plays  of  Menander;  from  the  tax- 
budget  of  a  small  suburban  town  to  the 
finances  of  two  worlds;  from  digging  a 
ditch  for  a  small  water  main  in  a  side  street 
of  a  mere  rustic  hamlet  to  the  building  of 
the  Panama  Canal.  All  these  and  ten  thou- 
sand other  happenings  and  transactions 
with  a  million  details,  all  come  pouring  into 

23 


the  office  of  an  editor  of  such  a  newspaper, 
and  he  must  pass  judgment  upon  their  rel- 
ative importance  and  their  availability  for 
his  use,  oftentimes  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  Can  )^u  conceive  of  a  more  complex 
or  a  more  difficult  task?  A  careful  student 
of  modern  life,  writing  a  few  years  ago, 
said  that  if  it  were  possible  for  us  to  send 
to  another  planet  some  one  thing  which 
would  exemplify  our  civilization  and  pres- 
ent-day attainments,  he  would  select  either 
an  encyclopaedia  or  a  great  daily  newspaper. 

What  sort  of  man,  th^n,  is  required  to 
produce  such  a  newspaper?  This  coun- 
try has  produced  many  men  who  have  at- 
tained distinction  in  that  field  of  activity. 
But  among  them  all,  few,  if  any,  attained 
greater  renown  than  Charles  A.  Dana,  for 
so  many  years  the  editor  of  the  New  York 
Sun.  Whatever  opinion  one  may  enter^ 
tain  of  Mr.  Dana's  personal  views  of  mat- 
ters politic,  ethical,  or  otherwise,  no  one 
questions  his  ability  as  an  editor.  The 
purely  intellectual  quality  of  his  pen  has 
seldom  been  surpassed,  and  the  sanity  and 
accuracy  of  his  news  columns  were  all  but 
perfect.  Surely,  if  there  has  ever  been  an 
American     newspaper     man     qualified     to 

24 


judge  the  attributes  of  a  great  editor,  Mr. 
Dana  was  such  an  authority.  A  very  few 
years  before  his  death,  he  was  invited  to 
deliver  a  series  of  lectures  upon  journalism 
before  the  students  of  Union  College.  In 
the  course  of  one  of  these  lectures,  while 
discussing  the  qualifications  that  an  editor 
should  have,  he  said : 

"I  am  myself  a  partisan  of  the  strict  old- 
fashioned  classical  education.  The  man  who 
knows  Greek  and  Latin,  and  knows  it — I  don't 
mean  who  has  read  six  books  of  Vergil  for  a 
college  examination,  but  the  man  who  can  pick 
up  Vergil  or  Tacitus  without  going  to  the  dic- 
tionary, and  the  man  who  can  read  the  Iliad  in 
Greek  without  boggling — and  if  he  can  read 
Aristotle  ajid  Plato,  all  the  better — and  is  fa- 
miliar with  the  English  Bible,  that  man  can  be 
trusted  to  edit  a  newspaper." 

Just  what  did  Mr.  Dana  mean? 
Merely  this :  That  the  man  who  is  thus  fa- 
miliar with  this  body  of  literature,  small 
though  it  may  appear,  but  which  is  the 
very  essence  of  polite  letters,  has  not  only 
compassed  the  entire  range  of  human  ex- 
perience, and  become  well  versed  in  the 
laws  of  God  and  man,  but  in  addition,  has 
caught  something  of  the  spirit  of  intel- 
lectual and  political  freedom  of  the  Greeks ; 
something  of  the  genius  and  loftiness  of 

25 


their  intellectual  and  spiritual  attainment, 
and  of  their  poetry  and  music  and  song, 
— in  short,  of  the  fine  art  of  living;  who 
has  also  caught  something  of  the  spirit  of 
that  national  pride  and  patriotism  which 
culminated  in  the  Republic  upon  which 
Rome  founded  her  great  world-em- 
pire. Again,  he  has  caught  something 
of  the  spirit  of  simple  faith  in  Jehovah 
and  the  mysticism  which  made  the  Chil- 
dren of  Israel  a  chosen  people,  maintain- 
ing their  identity  thousands  of  years 
until  they  produced  the  Christ,  and 
then,  despite  their  rejection  of  the 
Messiah,  remaining  intact  two  thousand 
years  longer,  though  wanderers  upon 
the  face  of  the  earth;  and  who  final- 
ly, through  the  King  James  interpre- 
tation of  the  records  of  this  eastern  mysti- 
cism, has  caught  something  of  the  Norse 
spirit  which  has  transmuted  Christianity 
from  a  religion  of  empty  form,  into 
which  it  had  degenerated,  into  a  living, 
moving  faith,  which  has  rescued  Christen- 
dom from  the  terrors  of  the  Dark  Ages, 
and  founded  empires,  erected  temples  to 
the  living  God,  placed  the  Bible  in  every 
home,  estabfished  universal  education  for  all 

26 


classes  of  the  State,  and  made  civil  and  re- 
ligious liberty  a  living-  verity, — such  a  man 
might  well  be  trusted  to  edit  a  newspaper. 

Already  I  have  essentially  defined  the 
third  aspect  of  education,  or  spiritual  de- 
velopment, along  with  the  intellectual.  And 
that  was  well-nigh  inevitable,  for  while 
academically,  general  intelligence,  or  intel- 
lectuality, is  distinguished  from  spirituality, 
practically  and  logically  th^ey  are  insep- 
arable. For  without  spirituality,  intellect 
becomes  cold,  and  relentless,  and  merciless, 
devoid  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  so 
wholly  essential  to  human  life.  Without 
spirituality,  intellect  becomes  a  mere 
mechanism,  an  automaton,  logical  but  life- 
less. It  is  spirituality  that  enables  a  mu- 
sician to  transform  mere  atmospheric  vi- 
bration into  harmonies  all  but  divine;  it  is 
spirituality  that  enables  an  artist  to  dip  his 
brush  first  into  this  pot  of  clay  and  then  in- 
to that  and  cause  a  human  face  to  spring 
from  a  sheet  of  dull,  gray  canvas, — a  form 
so  real  in  appearance  as  almost  to  seem  to 
throb  with  emotion;  it  is  spirituality  that 
makes  all  the  world  akin,  which  makes  us, 
all,  each  our  brother's  keeper ;  that  changes 
man  from  a  mere  calculating  machine  into 

27 


a  creature  made  in  the  image  of  his  Maker. 
Spirituality  bears  the  same  relation  to  in- 
tellect that  the  spark  of  protoplasm  bears 
to  the  constituent  chemical  elements  of  a 
grain  of  wheat;  together,  they  constitute  a 
living  organism,  big  with  all  the  possibilities 
of  the  one  mystery  which  has  left  baffled 
science  in  hopeless  despair  in  all  ages. 
Take  the  protoplasm  away,  and  life  vanishes 
beyond  the  ken  of  the  most  discerning 
chemist  or  astute  philosopher,  and  leaves 
behind  a  mere  speck  of  inanimate  dust. 
When  St.  Paul  said,  "The  letter  killeth,  but 
the  spirit  giveth  life,"  he  not  only  enunciat- 
ed a  great  theological  and  religious  truth, 
but  laid  down  a  fundamental  law  of  science 
as  well. 

In  the  last  analysis,  spirituality  is  the 
very  soul  of  all  artistic  and  ethical  and  re- 
ligious symbolism.  The  legend  of  the 
golden  harp  of  Orpheus,  whose  music  not 
only  impelled  all  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
jungle  to  follow,  harmless,  in  his  train,  but 
which  thrilled  the  hearts  of  the  tall  trees  of 
the  forest  so  that  they  bent  their  listening 
heads,  and  made  the  cold,  lifeless  stones 
to  leap  from  the  ground  for  very  joy,  is 
but  the  poetical  expression  of  a  spiritual 

28 


quality  too  real  and  too  universal  in  hu- 
man experience  ever  to  be  gainsaid.  From 
the  faintest  echoes  of  primordial  life  in 
the  incipient  dawn  of  creation,  to  the 
mightiest  swell  of  the  music  of  the  spheres 
throughout  all  the  transcendent  symphony 
of  eternity,  music  will  ever  touch,  now  in 
a  sad,  plaintive  minor  key,  and  now  in  ex- 
ulting, triumphant  strains,  all  of  the  chords 
of  that  lute  hidden  away  in  the  spiritual 
fibre  of  our  nature;  and  whether  it  draws 
angels  down  into  the  abysmal  depths  of 
black  despair,  or  bears  mortals  up  to  the 
great  white  throne,  will  depend  upon  the 
skill  of  the  hand  that  sweeps  the  lyre,  and 
the  motif  of  the  strains  awakened  by  the 
deftness  with  which  it  touches  the  strings. 
Do  you  remember  the  ancient  legend 
of  the  Lorelei  sung  by  the  poet  Heine? 
The  scene  is  laid  at  a  well-known  pass  on 
the  Rhine,  where  the  river  narrows  between 
dangerous  rocks,  above  which,  on  one  side, 
arises  a  deep  dark  cavern,  whence  issue 
strange  voices,  or  echoes.  In  the  depths 
of  this  cavern  was  said  to  be  the  famed 
treasure  of  the  Niebelungs;  and,  as  the 
legend  runs,  in  its  mouth,  sat  a  beautiful, 
sensuous  maiden,  who,  by  the  music  of  her 

39 


harp,  turned  the  heads  of  the  fishermen  as 
they  passed  by  in  their  boats,  and  lured  them 
to  destruction  on  the  black  rocks  beneath. 

Contrast  with  that  picture,  another.  In 
all  modern  art,  there  is  no  more  inspiring 
picture  than  that  of  Watts'  Hope,  which 
hangs  in  the  celebrated  Tate  Gallery  in 
London.  A  figure  of  a  woman  symbolical 
of  humanity  is  seated  on  the  top  of  the 
world,  with  bowed  head  and  a  commingled 
expression  of  faith  and  expectation  upon 
her  face,  peeping  from  beneath  her  bandag- 
ed eyes,  with  ears  strained  to  catch  the 
solitary  note  her  hand  can  draw 
from  the  only  remaining  string  of 
her  broken  lyre.  A  single  star  shines 
in  the  heavens.  Amid  conditions  that 
might  betoken  only  despair,  a  subtle 
divine  effulgence  of  hope  envelops  all. 
So  magnificent  is  the  artist's  conception 
of  the  picture,  that  no  one,  of  whatever 
religious  faith,  or  of  no  faith  at  all,  can 
look  upon  it  with  a  sympathetic  eye  with- 
out a  thrill  of  exultation  that  testifies,  in 
undeniable  accents,  to  the  spiritual  nature 
of  man. 

With  reference  to  the  classification  of 
education  as  utilitarian  and  cultural,  it  may 

30 


be   said   that  in   the  broadest  and   truest 
sense,  all  education  is  utilitarian^  in  that  it         ^ 
seeks  to  render  service  of  some  kind;  and   \J' 
in  a  corresponding  sense  all  education  is.     ^ 
cultural.     If  all  education  be  not  both  cul- 
tural and  utilitarian  in  this  sense,  it  falls 
far  short  of  its  mission.      However,  what 
is,  nowadays,  spoken  of  so  glibly  as  utili- 
tarian education,  is  not  education  at  all,  in 
the  best,  or  real,  meaning  of  that  term. 

Utilitarian  education,  so-caHed^^js  mergJx 
another  name  ior  a  certain  highly  specialized 
*technical  training,  pursued  from  a  purely 
mercenary  point  of  view.  -  It  is  the  com- 
"merclalization,  the  prostitution,  of  educa- 
tion ;  nay,  even  more,  it  is  a  mere  travesty 
upon  education.  In  other  words  it  is  a  certain 
training,  often  little,  if  anything,  else,  than 
the  mere  acquisition  of  a  trade,  sought 
to  be  dignified  by  calling  it  education,  a 
training  so  tangible  and  so  practical  as  to 
be  turned  into  a  batik  account  on  demand, 
— a  serious,  but  ludicrous,  attempt  to  re- 
duce education  to  such  terms  that  it  can 
be  sold  by  the  yard  or  pound,  so  to  speak. 

After  all,  it  is  an  old  story,  an  ancient 
will  o'  the  wisp,  in  a  new  aspect, — the  ever- 
recurring  attempt  to    transmute    a    baser 

31 


metal  into  a  finer,  to  turn  brass  into  gold^ — 
the  empty,  shimmering  phantom  that  has 
eluded  the  overcredulous  alchemist,  the 
crazy  fanatic,  and  the  cunning  charlatan, 
in  all  ages,  a  tragic-comedy  and  a  comic- 
tragedy,  that  will  persist  until  a  golden  mil- 
lennium shall  remove  all  ambition  and  ava- 
rice and  want  and  vanity  afar  from  mankind. 
This  anomalous  status  of  education  is  due 
to  the  fact  that  modern  commercial  and  in- 
dustrial conditions  have  conspired  to  precip- 
itate a  certain  crisis  that  has  forced  hasty 
consideration;  and  our  schools  and  institu- 
tions of  learning,  generally,  flushed  with 
the  sparkling  wine  of  an  age  which  grovels 
before  the  shrine  of  material  wealth,  have 
all — from  the  kindergarten  to  the  univer- 
sity— gone  on  a  long  debauch. 

Let  us  pause  for  a  moment,  and  con- 
sider. When  this  broad,  fair  land  was  first 
settled  by  white  men,  its  natural  re- 
sources were  boundless.  The  virgin  for- 
ests, the  natural  fertility  of  the  soil,  and 
the  vast  mineral  deposits  of  ready  access, 
were  dll  apparently  inexhaustible.  All  that 
any  one  had  to  do  to  become  possessed  of 
any  or  all  these  riches  was  to  reach  forth 
his  hand  and  take  them.  But  as  time  pass- 

32 


ed,  and  civilization  spread,  and  the  popula- 
tion increased,  these  capacious  storehouses, 
slowly  at  first,  and  then  more  rapidly,  were 
exhausted.  The  soil  was  drained  of  its 
natural  fertility,  and  the  settler  pushed  his 
home  further  and  further  away  from  the 
eastern  seaboard,  until  once  more,  as  crops 
grew  light  and  game  scant,  he  again  set 
the  sails  of  his  prairie  schooner,  and  point- 
ed westward,  until  finally  he  could  go  no  fur- 
ther, and  civilization  was  everywhere.  Vir- 
gin soil  and  untrod  forests  were  no  more. 
Timber,  aiud  coal,  and  iron,  and  all  else 
that  so  short  a  time  before  had  been  as  free 
as  the  wind  that  blows,  had  passed  under  the 
lock  and  key  of  vast  commercial  interests. 
Meanwhile,  possibilities  of  fortunes  such 
as  the  keepers  of  the  fabled  treasure  houses 
of  olden  times  never  dreamed  of,  tempt- 
ed numberless  men  to  daring  conquests  of 
trade  and  industrial  activity — conquests  in 
which  the  merchant  of  modest  means  and 
the  individual  manufacturer  were  merci- 
lessly coerced  into  yielding  up  their  indi- 
viduality and  their  independence,  and  of- 
tentimes all  their  material  resources,  to 
satisfy  the  money  barons'  fierce  brute  thirst 
for  conquest. 

33 


The  introduction  of  improved  machinery 
which  could  be  manipulated  by  inexperi- 
enced help,  drove  skilled  mechanics  from 
the  factory  and  workshop  in  throngs,  until, 
after  a  few  years,  the  manufacturers  them- 
selves were  appalled  at  the  profound  dearth 
of  capable,  intelligent  help.  They 
had  unwittingly  laid  the  ax  at  the  root 
of  their  own  fortunes.  For,  after  all, 
there  must  be  practical  mechanics  to  or- 
ganize, install,  and  keep  in  repair  and 
improve  these  high-bred  automata  of  shin- 
ing steel.  The  former  generation  had  vanish- 
ed and  left  no  successors.  The  time-honour- 
ed apprentice  system  had  shrunk  away  be- 
fore the  advance  of  new  methods.  The 
old-time  carpenter  and  cabinet-maker,  and 
mason^ — ^mechanics  capable  of  producing  al- 
most anything  that  could  be  fashioned  from 
wood  and  stone,  had  disappeared.  So  swift 
and  sudden  had  been  this  metamorphosis, 
that  industrial  life  awoke  with  a  common 
start  to  a  sense  of  the  common  peril. 

Nor  was  the  manufacturer  alone  in  his 
woe.  The  agriculturist,  caught  between 
the  Scylla  of  unproductive  farms,  and  the 
Charybdis  of  debt  and  increased  cost  of 
living,  was  at  his  wits'  end  to  repair  his 

34 


broken  fortunes.  Hundreds  of  thousands 
of  small  tradesmen  and  mechanics,  discour- 
aged and  disheartened, — ^the  former  cun- 
ning of  their  hands  either  forgotten,  or  at 
best  an  iridescent  dream  of  a  departed  past, 
— sought,  for  the  mere  physical  necessities 
of  themselves  and  families,  relief  from  the 
tyrannous  oppression  of  existing  economic 
evils.  What  was  to  be  done?  Commerce 
must  not  stop,  the  food  supply  must  be 
conserved,  and  the  common  people  must  be 
made  self-supporting. 

While  these  changes  had  been  taking 
place,  the  school,  college,  and  university 
had  become  infected  with  the  poison  of  in- 
ordinate thirst  for  money.  Men  whose 
passion  in  life  had  been  to  accumulate 
money  merely  for  the  sake  of  doing  so, 
satiated  and  biases  from  the  long  indulgence 
of  their  appetites,  in  their  search  for  some- 
thing new  to  stimulate  their  jaded  senses, 
now  began  to  pour  their  wealth  forth,  with 
amazing  prodigality,  into  the  laps  of  edu- 
cational institutions.  Proprietary  colleges 
and  universities  sprang  up  over  night. 
Established  domiciles  of  education  were 
transformed  in  a  single  day.  Mil- 
lions    upon     millions     of     dollars     were 

35 


poured  forth  in  this  unparalleled  way, 
until,  after  the  passing  of  two  dec- 
ades, the  gift  of  a  score  of  millions  by- 
some  great  capitalist  to  found  a  university, 
or  to  increase  the  resources  of  one  already 
established,  excites  scarcely  as  much  public 
interest  as  the  gift  of  that  many  thousands 
excited  forty  years  ago. 

Now  the  use  of  money,  even  on  so  vast 
a  scale,  for  educational  purposes,  is  a  laud- 
able one,  when  considered  as  a  gift  merely. 
But  the  spirit  of  the  age  is  such  that  it  is 
very  difficult  to  dissociate  the  money 
from  its  giver,  and,  in  many  instances,  the 
only  too  obvious  reason  for  the  gift.  Time 
may  correct  all  this,  and  burn  away  the 
dross  that  "debases  it  now.  But  we  are 
compelled  to  face  the  living  present,  and 
reluctantly  forced  to  admit  that  education, 
which,  in  the  very  highest  and  best  sense, 
should  be  altruistic  in  spirit,  has  shown  too 
obvious  a  tendency  to  be  the  exact  reverse. 

As  a  result,  partly  in  the  hope  of  ab- 
stracting more  money  into  their  treasuries 
from  the  fortunes  of  wealthy  men,  and 
partly  for  the  purpose  of  self -exploitation, 
colleges  and  universities  at  once  rushed 
into   this   industrial  breach,   promising   all 

36 


sorts  of  things, — that  the  curriculum  should 
be  so  modified  as  to  include  every  phase  of 
agriculture,  however  trivial  or  minute  in 
detail;  that  trade  schools  should  meet  the 
demand  for  an  adequate  supply  of  skilled 
mechanics ;  that  economic  conditions  should 
be  so  carefully  inquired  into,  and  the  neces- 
sary antidotes  for  their  many  ills  so  care- 
fully and  thoroughly  administered,  that  ev- 
erybody would  promptly  become  self-sup- 
porting; and  finally,  that  the  educative  pro- 
cess should  become  so  well  "standardized" 
as  to  give,  in  exact  mathematical  terms,  the 
precise  commercial  value  of  any  academic 
instructor.  So  that  today  certain  of  our 
great  universities  bear  a  striking  resem- 
blance to  a  mediaeval  castle;  or,  possibl)> 
more  accurately,  to  a  large  southern  planta- 
tion of  ante  bellum  days,  organized  on  a 
feudal  plan.  Here  was  the  proprietor,  him- 
self a  man  of  liberal  education  and  culture, 
possibly,  but  with  a  discerning  eye  for  his 
own  commercial  prosperity,  providing  his 
sons  with  advantages  for  education  and  cul- 
ture. About  him  were  a  certain  few  slaves  of  \ 
intelligence,  certainly  of  no  education,  but  \ 
skilled  mechanics  or  workmen,  withal,  each  i 
capable  of  undertaking  the  management  of       | 

37  ^ 


such  department  of  the  plantation  as  was 
entrusted  to  him,  with  a  horde  of  under- 
lings merely  to  do  his  bidding,  who,  if  not 
utterly  incapable  of  attaining  to  any  higher 
grade  of  intelligence,  were  certainly  con- 
tent with  the  simpler  and  more  elementary 
manner  of  life. 

So  today,  in  the  great  universities  of  the 
country,  is  to  be  found  first  of  all,  a  presi- 
dent, possibly  with  a  real  education,  but 
chosen  for  this  position,  rather  because  of 
certain  qualifications  he  possesses  for  in- 
creasing the  material  equipment  of  his  re- 
spective institution,  than  for  any  marked 
ability  to  develop  manhood  and  woman- 
hood in  students.  In  the  student  body  is 
a  small  group  of  workers  dedicated  to  the 
loftier  aims  of  life — who  seek  ade- 
quate equipment  for  rendering  real 
service  to  mankind  and  civilization  by 
grounding  themselves  in  the  humanities — 
seeking  to  learn  what  life  is  and  what  it 
really  means ;  and  who  are  striving  to  catch 
something  of  the  highest  attainment  the 
world  has  afforded  the  human  race,  that 
they  may  interpret  it  to  their  fellows  in 
turn.  These  are  the  people  who  are  scal- 
ing    the     summits     of     lofty     mountains, 

38 


whence  the  prospects  of  life  may  be  seen 
in  true  perspective,  devoid  of  inequalities 
of    vision,    to     the     end     that     whatever 
professional    or    other    career    they    may 
ultimately     select,     they     will     contribute 
not     merely     to      the     material      wealth 
of     the     world,     but     rather     something 
to    that    intangible,    but    very    real,    qual- 
ity of  life,  which  for  thousands  of  years, 
has  steadily  striven  to  lift  men  away  from 
the  darkness  and  doubt  of  materialism  to 
the  perfect  dawn  of  exalted  ideals  and  aims. 
Then    follow    a    larger    group,    rooted 
by   nature   and   environment   in   material- 
istic    philosophy — brilliant,     perhaps,     but 
ambitious — and     dedicated     to     the     one 
proposition    that    the    world    owes    them 
the    largest    portion    of    material    wealth 
which    they    can     extract,    by     hook    or 
crook,     from     its     well-filled     storehouses. 
f  These    are    the    men,    who    in   law,    med- 
icine,  and   the   ministry,   bring  their  pro- 
fessions into  disrepute,  by  their  constant 
(  quest    of    self-aggrandizement;    and    who 
I  in  the  technical  professions  and  in  commer- 
I    cial  life  lay  the  foundations  for  the  huge 
'    scandals  that  cast  so  foul  a  blot  on  modern 
business. 

39 


And,  finally,  there  is  found  a  class  in 
great  numbers  who  seek  some  royal  road 
to  industrial  success,  in  a  mistaken  effort 
to  acquire  an  education  by  merely  learning 
a  trade  in  one  of  the  many  industrial  de- 
partments to  be  found  in  the  back-yards  of 
some  of  our  modern  universities,  ranging 
all  the  way  from  blacksmithing  and  cab- 
inet-making for  the  men,  and  dishwashing 
and  laundry-work  for  the  women,  to  rou- 
tine pharmacists  and  half-baked  public 
school  teachers,  or  other  weaklings,  of  both 
sexes.  The  unsophisticated  farmer's  boy 
is  shown  how  to  plant  potatoes  without  re- 
gard to  the  phases  of  the  moon,  and  how  to 
feed  calves  scientifically ;  his  sister  is  shown 
a  better  way  to  raise  chickens,  and  beans, 
and  radishes,  and  both  go  home  educated, 
as  they  suppose. 

Now  it  is  perfectly  true  that  all  this  sort 
of  instruction  needs  to  be  given.  We  need 
high-grade  mechanics;  the  economy  of  the 
household  needs  to  be  regulated  in  a  more 
rational  manner;  agriculture,  in  all  its 
moods  and  tenses,  needs  to  be  placed  upon 
a  really  scientific  basis ;  and  the  entire  in- 
dustrial world  needs  reformation,  so  as  to 
reduce  waste,  and  drudgery,  and  poverty, 

40 


and  crime,  all,  to  the  lowest  possible  terms.     \ 
Honest  labour  should  be  dignified  and  ex-       \ 
altecL    But  industrial  training  is  not  educa-         \ 
tion;lind  it  should  not  be  placed  in  the  \ 

false  position  of  being  so-called ;  for  such  ^ 

a  course  only  cheapens  both,  and  defeats,  \ 

ultimately,  the  laudable  and  desirable  pur-  \ 

poses  of  both,  respectively.      In  the  same  \ 

category,  but  in  a  higher  scale,   may  be  ) 

placed  training  which  is  purely  professional,  / 

such  as  teaching,  law,  medicine,   or  even  1 

the  ministry.    These  subjects,  pursued  on  \ 

professional  grounds  alone,  are  utilitariain  • 

and  nothing  less.      They  demand,  first  of  1 

all,  the  broad,  deep  foundation  of  a  liberal 
education  and  of  a  humanitarian  culture,  ) 

to  enable  them  to  dedicate  men  and  women  / 

and  their  professions  to  the  uplift  of  man-  / 

kind. 

That  this  too  patent  perversion  of  edu- 
cation to  the  commercial  and  utilitarian 
spirit  of  the  age  can  but  profoundly 
affect  society,  is,  alas,  not  only  truth,  but 
fact.  Its  blight  is  already  upon  the  finest 
flower  of  our  civilization.  For  nearly  a 
generation,  the  church  has  deplored  its 
slackening  grip  upon  its  own  membership, 
no  less  than  upon  the  world  at  large, — a 

41 


condition,  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the 
fact  that  the  ministry  no  longer  attracts 
men  of  as  high  intellectual  and  moral  grade 
as  formerly — ;  and  the  general  spirit  of 
commercialism  of  the  present  age  is  threat- 
ening not  only  the  church,  but  society  its- 
self.  As  wealth  and  the  lust  of  wealth  have 
brought  luxury  and  idleness  in  their  train, 
the  integrity  of  the  home — the  bulwark  of 
society  for  ages — is  menaced,  and  menaced 
to  the  extent  that  some  of  our  thoughtful 
observers  of  modern  life  are  seriously 
questioning  if  the  home  can  long  endure 
under  existing  conditions.  They  are  re- 
luctant to  make  public  admission  of  this 
fact;  but  that  they  entertain  such  views  is 
nevertheless  true,  and  there  is  real  cause 
for  alarm. 

Without  presuming  to  prophesy  what  the 
immediate  outcome  of  the  present  struggle 
will  be,  we  are  compelled  to  admit  that 
signs  are  not  wanting  that  a  period  of  de- 
cadence is  setting  in;  nay,  has  set  in, — a 
decadence  such  as  preceded  and  ended 
in  the  downfall  of  the  Roman  Empire  and 
western  civilization,  and  plunged  the 
world  into  the  Dark  Ages  for  a  thousand 
years.     Then,  as  now,  great  material  pros- 

42 


perity  brought  luxurious  idleness  and  vice 
to  sap  the  life  of  the  nation.  Then,  as 
now,  education  was  subverted  to  the  un- 
worthy ambition  of  unscrupulous  rulers  of 
state  and  wealth.  After  several  centuries, 
the  chaotic  industrial  conditions  precipitate 
ed  by  Roman  excesses  were  eventually  cor- 
rected through  certain  influences,  among 
which  was  the  rise  of  the  trade 
guilds,  which  in  their  essence,  closely  re- 
sembled industrial  education,  so-called,  to- 
day. Possibly  the  ultimate  solution  of  our 
owifi  problem  will  be  through  some  such 
agency,  stripped  of  the  defects  of  its  proto- 
type. The  most  promising  tendency  in  that 
direction  today,  however,  is  the  silent,  but 
phenomenally  rapid  growth  of  corporation 
schools,  like  those  of  certain  of  the  great 
railroad  systems  of  this  country,  and  of  the 
Westinghouse  Company  of  Pittsburgh,  for 
example,  which  seek  to  provide,  in  a  very 
practical  and  pointed  manner,  for  the  spe- 
cific needs  of  these  respective  industries. 
The  universities  and  industrial  training 
schools,  per  se,  are  unable  to  meet  such 
competition,  and  will  be  obliged  to  recast 
their  plans  for  service  and  growth,  again; 
so  that  in  due  course  of  time,  we  may  con- 

43 


fidently  expect  a  sloughing  off  to  take 
place,  and  the  hideous  nightmare  of  the 
present  to  give  way  to  the  clearer  light  of 
sanity  and  reason.  The  new  adjustment 
must  be  as  slow  as  the  present  one  has  been 
swift  and  headlong.  For  the  deadly  poison 
has  filled  all  the  veins  of  society,  even  to  its 
very  extremities,  and  the  elimination  of  the 
venom  must  necessarily  be  a  prolonged, 
tedious  process. 

Of  the  ultimate  outcome,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  One  is  forced  to  credit  human  his- 
tory. That  moves  in  certain  cycles,  in  har- 
mony with  established  law.  An  era  of  ad- 
vancement is  followed  by  a  corresponding 
period  of  retrogression.  The  upward 
march  of  civilization  may  be  liken- 
ed to  the  progress  of  a  tiny  ant 
along  the  closely  wound  coils  of  rope 
about  a  gigantic,  inclined  spar,  where  one 
half  of  every  turn  of  the  rope  points  down- 
ward, and  the  other  half  points  upward, 
but  a  given  segment  of  each  turn  reaches  a 
little  higher  up  than  the  corresponding  seg- 
ment of  the  coil  next  below.  Moreover,  the 
change  from  the  upward  to  the  downward, 
or  from  the  downward  to  the  upward  bent, 
may  be  so  slight  as  to  be  imperceptible  to 

44 


the  minute  traveler,  who  finds  that  it  is  only 
by  looking  back  upon  what  to  him  is  a  con- 
siderable distance  that  he  has  covered,  that 
he  can  be  sure  of  his  ascent  or  descent,  and 
from  a  far  prospect  only  can  he  see  that, 
even  in  his  descent,  he  has  made  progress 
over  the  preceding  cycle. 

So  with  humanity,  every  great  epoch  of 
progress  in  its  history  has  been  both  pre- 
ceded and  followed  by  a  corresponding  de- 
cline,— long  imperceptible  perhaps,  but  none 
the  less  true.  Such  convolutions  have 
marked  the  ascent  of  man  ever  since  the 
dawn  of  history,  and  in  the  light  of  that 
fact,  well  may  we  expect  them  to  continue 
to  the  end  of  time. 

Along  with  the  acquisition  of  knowl- 
edge comes  a  conscious  growth  of 
national  power,  or  sovereignty,  which,  to 
mankind,  is  at  first  a  tonic,  then  a  stimu- 
lant, and,  finally,  a  deadly  narcotic,  stealing 
away  the  sobriety  and  poise  of  nations  no 
less  than  of  individuals;  and,  by  impercep- 
tible degrees,  lulling  its  victims  into  a  de- 
licious, sensuous,  poisonous  slumber,  so 
deep  and  so  prolonged  that  nothing  short 
of  the  crash  of  long-impvending  doom  can 
rouse  them. 


The  far-famed  Alexandrian  Empire  that 
stretched  from  the  queenly  Adriatic  to  the 
distant  jungles  on  the  farther  banks  of  the 
Indus,  and  from  the  mountain  fastnesses  of 
Macedonia  and  Thrace  to  the  burning 
sands  beyond  the  Edenic  valley  of  the  Nile, 
had  crumbled  into  dissolving  dust  and  the 
name  of  its  conquering  hero  become  a  mere 
memory  before  the  dawn  of  the  Christian 
Era  ,Jmighty  Rome,  no  less  than  her  purpled 
Caesars,  sank  into  lethal  oblivion,  and  car- 
ried with  her,  into  utter  destruction,  a  civ- 
ilization of  a  thousand  years;  and,  upon 
the  ashes  of  that  millennium,  we  have 
builded  another  civilization,  of  a  greater 
and  more  magnificent  grandeur.  But  well 
may  we  pause,  and,  after  a  long  silent 
retrospect,  solemnly  question  whether  the 
glory  of  our  pride,  too,  is  not  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  a  mighty  cataclysm.  Surely 
we  can  do  no  less  than  patiently  to  study 
these  restless  forebodings  that  so  patently 
characterize  society  today,  and  strive  with 
all  the  power  of  our  being  to  apply  the  cor- 
rective influences  required  to  overcome  the 
decadent  tendencies  of  this  generation. 
/  That  there  is  a  rising  feeling  of  alarm 
over  our  present  conditions  is  a  most  hope^ 

46 


ful  sign.  From  the  very  inception  of  the 
commercialism  of  education,  and  church, 
and  society  at  large,  there  have  been  those 
who  have  viewed  this  movement  with  man- 
ifest apprehension.  This  class  of  thoughtful 
observers,  though  small  even  yet,  has  grad- 
ually grown  in  numbers,  until  today  it  finds 
within  its  ranks  not  only  educators,  but  law- 
yers, physicians,  clergymen,  and  even  cold- 
blooded men  in  commercial  and  industrial 
life.  In  Germany,  for  example,  a  country 
whose  social  and  political  fabric  is  ground- 
ed upon  a  materialistic  philosophy,  that 
dictates  utilitarian  training  for  the  masses, 
and  reserves  education  and  culture,  in  the 
real  sense,  for  the  aristocracy,  this  alarm 
has  been  manifest  for  some  years,  and  ^ 
even  among  her  so-called  hardheaded  busi- 
ness men.  The  unsuccessful  assault  upon 
the  humanities  in  Oxford  University,  Eng- 
land's most  ancient  stronghold  of  learn- 
ing, is  cause  for  hearty  congratulation. 
In  our  own  country,  the  best  known  in- 
cident indicating  a  possible  reaction,  and 
an  ultimate  return  to  the  humanities,  is 
that  of  a  movement  of  the  alumni  of  Am- 
herst College,  which  is  resulting  in 
a  radical  change  in  the  curriculum  of  that 


well-known  institution.  While  this  action 
leaves  much  to  be  desired,  it  is  a  happy 
augury  of  the  future.  Among  the  larger 
colleges  and  universities,  however,  there  is 
no  apparent  sense  of  danger  yet. 

But,  after  all,  it  is  the  small  college  to 
which  we  must  turn  as  the  bulwark  of  our 
strength  against  the  pseudo-rationalism 
which  has  invaded  modern  society.  The 
large  college  and  the  university,  almost,  if 
not  quite,  without  exception,  have  become 
so  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  this  false 
philosophy  that  they  will  require  a  prolong- 
ed struggle  to  shake  themselves  free  from 
its  blighting  influence.  Nor  can  help  be 
expected  from  the  free  public  schools  and 
the  state  universities,  because  they  are  too 
subservient  to  the  demands  of  the  material- 
istic calls  of  the  unthinking  proletariat  to 
permit  the  heads  of  such  institutions  to  fol- 
low the  courageous  dictates  of  their  own 
consciences. 

But  the  small  college, — one  that  is  really 
free  and  independent,  as  well  as  small,  one 
which  has  not  entangled  itself  in  unholy 
alliances  to  obtain  endowment  and  equip- 
ment, one  which  has  not  sought  to  attract 
patronage  by  questionable  means  for  un- 

48 


worthy  ends, — is,  what  any  college  or  uni- 
versity irrespective  of  whether  it  be  large 
or  small  ought  to  be, — free  and  independ- 
ent. For  that  reason,  the  very  fact  that 
it  is  small,  is,  in  the  present  exigency,  at 
least,  an  inherent  advantage.  Its  strug- 
gle for  existence  and  growth  carries  with 
it  a  very  real  appreciation  of  the  service 
it  renders  both  the  community  which  pat- 
ronizes it,  and  the  procession  of  earnest, 
serious-minded  young  men  and  young 
women  that  files  through  its  halls. 

Nor  should  the  small  college  minimize 
its  faith  in  its  own  influence.  Oftentimes 
it  is  even  the  single  individual  who  inspires 
the  world,  and  fixes  the  destiny  of  man- 
kind. Pass  by,  if  you  please,  the  mighty 
Viking  warrior  who  has  so  profoundly  in- 
fluenced the  millennium  just  closing,  and 
look  back  almost  to  the  beginning  of  the 
preceding  millennial  period,  and  behold 
another  man,  faring  up  and  down  the  hills 
and  vales  of  a  small  Roman  province  on 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  Mediterranean. 
He  is  the  most  perfect  example,  in 
all  the  history  of  the  world,  of  that  educa- 
tion I  plead  for.  His  training  was  sym- 
metrical  in   all   its   parts — ^physical,   intel- 

49 


lectual,  and  spiritual.  At  the  age  of  twelve 
years,  his  intellectual  grasp  of  all  that  was 
difficult  and  recondite  in  the  teachings 
of  the  sages  of  his  people,  and  his  keen 
spiritual  insight  into,  and  his  broad  and 
deep  sympathy  with,  social  conditions,  en- 
abled him  to  interpret  his  knowledge  of 
human  nature  and  human  society  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  confound  the  most  learned 
doctors  of  the  law ;  and  when  subsequently 
at  the  age  of  thirty  years,  he  set  out  upon 
his  life-work  of  service  to  humanity,  so 
mature  was  his  equipment,  so  well  ground- 
ed was  his  faith  in  the  duty  whereunto  he 
was  called,  and  so  profoundly  was  he  dedi- 
cated to  this  mission  in  every  fibre  of  all 
his  being,  that,  in  the  short  space  of  three 
years,  he  created  a  revolution  which  has 
persisted  through  all  the  shifting  changes 
of  nineteen  centuries  of  world-wide  history, 
a  revolution  whose  genius  has  ever  been 
the  hope  and  comfort  and  cheer  of  man- 
kind, and  made  Christianity  a  dynamic 
force  throughout  the  earth. 

For  a  quarter  century,  Salem  College  has 
stood  with  outstretched  hands,  beckoning 
the  young  men  and  young  women  of  this 
republic    of    mountaineers    to    come    and 

50 


\ 

( 


drink  from  the  cup  of  wisdom,  and  wait- 
ing throngs  have  hearkened  to  that  call. 
She  has  been  loyal  to  the  faith  she  has  pro- 
fessed. Her  devoted  perceptors,  them- 
selves, first  drank  deeply  from  the  cup 
which  they,  afterward,  have  held  to  the 
lips  of  their  disciples.  Beneath  its  golden  \ 
brim  is  inscribed  a  legend  which  betokens 
its  draughts.     Pause  and  read: 

"And  whosoever  of  you  will  be  the  chiefest, 
shall  be  the  servant  of  all." 

But  her  work  is  not  done;  her  fight  is 
not  finished;  her  course  is  only  just  begun; 
she  is  anointed  with  the  oil  of  sacrifice,  and 
consecrated  to  the  destiny  ordained  by  her 
founders.  Today,  still  in  the  first  flush  of  the 
glory  of  her  youth,  this  college  stands  at  the 
threshold  of  a  magnificent  opportunity. 
Reared  upon  soil  that  has  been  stained  by 
the  bloody  footprints  of  devoted  service  to 
humanity — a  trail  of  footprints  that  ex- 
tends, for  a  thousand  years,  all  the  way 
from  the  embarkation  of  Hrolf,  the  majestic 
Norseman,  upon  his  voyage  of  adventure, 
to  this  spot,  whither  his  lineal  descendant, 
of  kingly  physique  and  fiery  zeal,  led  a 
company,  more  than  six  score  years  ago,  to 
establish  new  homes  for  themselves  amid 

51 


the  freedom  of  the  wilderness — a  wflder- 
ness  speedily  transformed  into  comfortable, 
hospitable  homes  dedicated  to  the  faith  and 
mission  of  Palestine's  Nazarene,  and 
where,  but  a  generation  ago,  another  son 
of  the  warrior  from  the  German  Sea,  his 
life  also  dedicated  to  the  uplift  of  human- 
ity, performed  the  greatest  service  ever  yet 
rendered  by  any  one  man  in  all  that  part 
of  the  state  which  constitutes  the  geo- 
graphical setting  of  this  temple  of  learn- 
ing; reared  upon  such  soil,  I  repeat,  amid 
the  scenes  of  achievements  which  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  nobility  of  character  that  dis- 
tinguishes the  people  who  first  made  this 
institution  possible  and  then  tenderly  nurs- 
ed it  through  all  the  anxious,  precarious 
years  of  its  early  existence,  growing  slow- 
ly, but  surely,  into  such  sturdiness 
of  stature  and  character  as  to  in- 
spire generations  yet  unborn  with  lofty 
zeal  and  purpose. 

Salem  is  face  to  face  with  a  tre- 
mendous responsibility, — a  responsibility 
she  can  not  escape  if  she  would,  nor 
would  she  if  she  could.  A  flood  of 
golden  opportunities  is  rising  at  her 
portals    in   portentous   volume — opportuni- 

52 


ties  which  she  can  not  afford  to  ignore  ^ 
or  lose.  Upon  the  bosom  of  this  flood  is 
borne  her  destiny.  If  in  its  physical,  in- 
tellectual, and  spiritual  fibre,  the  fabric  of 
her  walls  is  strong  enough  to  withstand 
the  mighty  pressure  to  which  they  are  sub- 
jected; if  the  material  of  which  they  are 
constructed  is  drawn  from  the  storehouse  of 
enduring  ages;  if  the  walls  are  rooted  deep 
down  upon  the  solid  rock  of  unselfish  de- 
votion to  the  eternal  verities  of  humanity; 
if  thus  imbedded,  and  then  reared  by  hands 
kept  clean  from  the  grime  of  unworthy 
motive;  then  this  college,  strong  in  con- 
scious rectitude  of  purpose,  guided  by  a 
discerning  judgment  of  the  elemental  qual- 
ities of  life,  no  less  than  of  the  perfect, 
delicate  flower  of  its  highest  culture  and 
humanity,  will  be,  through  all  the  changing 
years,  an  impregnable  fortress  against  the 
powers  of  ignorance  and  darkness  and  de- 
cay,— a  beacon  light  to  guide  the  foot- 
steps of  wayfaring  humanity,  and  to  impel 
to  supreme  effort,  to  noble  purpose,  and 
to  lofty  aims.  So  standing,  she  will  be- 
come an  enduring  monument  with  a  living 
voice,  a  law  and  an  oracle  to  the  throngs 
that  hang  upon  her  words,  inspiring  them 

S3 


^4t)  zealous  devotion,  to  high  aspirations  and 
determined  'endeavor;  and  the  ever-widen- 
ing circles  of  her  influence,  following  swift- 
ly, one  upon  another,  ever  'incr]^asing  in  vol- 
ume and  power,  ultimately  will  extend  to 
the  confines  of  the  world,  and  bring  joy 
and  hope  and  comfort  and  peace,  with  pur- 
ity of  life,  strength  of  character,  mag- 
nanimity of  courage,  and  glorious  achieve- 
ment, to  successive  multitudes  through 
coming  centuries. 


54 


UNIVERSITY  W  C^^«^RNI 


YC  04584 


14  DAY  USE 

.HTUKN  TO  OBSK.KOM  WHICH  BORKOWBD 

LOAN  DEPT. 


f 


